


Routine Maintenance

by Svanhilde



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: AFAB Apprentice (The Arcana), D/s can mean romance too, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, Lucio (The Arcana) Route, Lucio definitely eats at Subway, Making Assumptions About the Canon, Mild Anxiety and Smut, POV, POV Second Person, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Smut, Stress Relief, Submissive Lucio (The Arcana), Worldbuilding, feelings and smut, hand stuff, soft domme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:21:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26548909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Svanhilde/pseuds/Svanhilde
Summary: POV 2nd person, a few weeks post-Lucio route.Crises now averted, Vesuvia is working hard to get back to normal. For you, that looks like throwing yourself 110% into your new job, out of sheer force of habit.For Lucio, who spent the last three years as a spectral goat - "normal" isn't a terribly comforting concept.Thankfully, he knows just where (and when) to find you.
Relationships: Apprentice & Lucio (The Arcana), Apprentice/Lucio (The Arcana), Lucio (The Arcana)/Reader, Lucio (The Arcana)/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 116





	Routine Maintenance

**Author's Note:**

> This started off as a friend and I challenging each other to write the adoring sub!Lucio smut we wanted to see in the world. Except then I accidentally found a post-canon concept I loved along the way. And accidentally fell in love with the Goatman. So now it's still smutty, in the end, but it's also really soft. Oops!
> 
> Apologies for any strange formatting - this is my first upload to AO3, and copy/pasting is apparently harder than I thought.
> 
> Tags are cheeky but otherwise accurate. Enjoy!
> 
> (Note - Started working on this during Book XVI, but should be canon-compliant through Book XVII.)

* * *

The sun was beginning to set, bathing your new office in a soft amber glow as the day slowly crept into night. Through the large windows that flank your desk, you hear a thin strain of music wafting up from the gardens below, a sure sign that some visiting dignitary or other was being entertained with the very best the palace had to offer.

By all standards, you were sure it was another gorgeous evening in Vesuvia.

“...just not for me,” you grumble under your breath.

“What’s that? Oi, wizard. Are you listening to me?” 

The disgruntled man currently looming over your desk had been in and out of your office daily for almost a week now. As chief builder, he kept himself busy challenging virtually every structural suggestion you had in your new role as a part of Nadia's court - the first-ever Artifex of a newer and (allegedly) more peaceful Vesuvia. Every day, there was some new argument, some new angle to worry about, but it all seemed to boil down to one root cause:

The guy just didn't trust magic. And with everything the city had been through - and how recently - you couldn’t really blame him.

“I’m not a...okay, look. Just follow the plan _,_ please. I've done the magic, I've done the _math_ , and the Countess reviewed the whole thing herself. Go and test it out, if you want to. It _will_ work.” You take your hand off the blueprint to smooth your hair back, your other hand clenched into a tight fist under the desk. “But you have to trust we know what we're doing."

Normally, he’d bristle at that suggestion, but today, thankfully - blessedly -

"...well, I suppose it's architecturally sound, magic rocks or whatever be damned," the man mumbles as an acknowledgement, grabbing the plans and waving dismissively at you before stalking out of the room.

"Hey, would you please close the d--”

He was gone.

“--door,” you mutter to no one as his footsteps disappear down the hall.

Finally alone, you let out the full-body sigh you'd been holding in and sink back into your chair, closing your eyes.

Not a moment later, a head pokes around the corner. 

“You’ve one more appointment today, Artifex,” your new assistant reminds you, cheerily. 

You grunt wordlessly back at him in reply.

The young man assigned to assist you had a passing understanding of magic, but a seemingly unlimited enthusiasm for time management. You hated dealing with the minutiae of a day-to-day schedule, so you had figured it couldn’t hurt to let him handle things. After nearly a week of back-to-back meetings that turned into back-to-back arguments, you were starting to wonder if you’d live long enough to regret it.

After a thoughtful pause, your assistant stands in the doorframe and asks, “Next time the chief builder comes through, should I tell him you’re busy?”

“No, we’ll never get this right if we don’t work together. At least he’s starting to listen.” You turn your head towards the eager young man and try to look as pleasant as possible. “Just the one, you said? You should head home - I’ll take care of the rest from here.”

“If you insist, Artifex.” The man chirps, bowing deeply before striding away with purpose.

“And please, you don’t need to call me that, you can--”

But he was gone.

“--Right,” you sigh, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose.

_Just one more. You can do this._

Most days, you should have been able to leave the office behind you by now and be home by sundown - at least, in theory. So far, every day you found yourself at your desk until the small hours of the morning, leaving you to scavenge for the odd meal in the kitchen before falling asleep on an old couch in your office. Things were rough.

“So, who’s it gonna be?” you mutter to yourself, fishing your schedule out from under a pile of reports on your desk. But before you can finish looking it over, a familiar voice booms out behind you:

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite magician! Busy saving the day in here?” 

Even before you look at him, you immediately recognize Lucio’s familiar theatrics, and your mood lifts a little. _Of course_ , you think. _How did I forget?_

You lift your head to turn towards the voice, and Lucio really _is_ there, leaning against the doorway with an easy grin on his face. He was dressed simply - for once - in dark, fitted trousers and a white linen shirt that, in true Lucio fashion, seemed to be left strategically open to expose his toned chest. He looked so different than he used to, letting his golden hair fall forward over one eye - _like at the Masquerade_ , you think, your stomach fluttering briefly at the memory.

Before you can stop yourself, your eyes trail along the shadows that contour his muscles in the fading daylight, and you feel a faint heat begin to creep up your cheeks.

You take a deep breath as you snap your eyes back up to meet his, but you’re a second too late to escape unnoticed. 

“I knew you missed me,” he says with a wink.

It had only been a week, but...it had been too long.

“Lucio! I almost didn’t recognize you without a cape,” you joke casually, folding up and pocketing the schedule as he enters the room. You turn back to your work and wave a hand in his general direction. “Let me get these organized and I’ll be right with you.”

The research scattered all over your desk is already a mess, so you shuffle them haphazardly back into a pile and stuff them into a drawer. _There’s still so much to do_ , you think, frowning slightly before you push your chair back and stand up.

When you turn back to Lucio, he’s peering wide-eyed at the items you’ve laid out on the mantle over the fireplace - each of them a potentially useful reagent for all the magical materials testing you’ve been saddled with. He taps a finger at the first in a series of meticulously arranged glass jars, where a tiny orange flower seems to be blossoming out of thin air.

“Love what you’ve done with the place,” he says, casting an approving eye over the rest of your new office. “Well, I...don’t really remember what this room was for, but I’m sure this must be an improvement. It’s very _you._ ”

"Honestly? I’m not sure either,” you admit. “Based on what I saw before Nadia had it cleaned up - it may have been some kind of hybrid-study...storage unit...bird's nest?” You shrug broadly at your surroundings, remembering the day Nadia asked you to accept your new post.

Not even a week after the Realms crisis was resolved, the Countess had already been unflappably focused on the future - a future that she was sure needed your help to succeed. 

And yet, Nadia was very clear that you should take some time to yourself - _perhaps a vacation?_ She had suggested. _You deserve a break after everything you’ve done for us._

There was no rush. But whenever you were ready, you’d have your own space, a position at court, all the resources at the palace’s disposal, even your own assistant. You’d have purpose again.

Who could turn that down?

So, naturally, you had jumped in feet first. It really didn’t sound so bad, at first. You couldn't have known it would mean you'd hardly have an hour to yourself, much less time for any more extracurricular affairs. Like reading tarot, or shopkeeping. Or sleeping in your own bed. 

Or Lucio.

He was no longer count, of course, but Nadia had graciously allowed him to stay on in the guest wing - _temporarily_ , she insisted - yet with the hours you kept, days had gone by where you barely saw him in passing, if at all.

You gesture towards the workbench opposite your desk, waving for Lucio to come have a seat as you whisk various materials off its surface and into a nearby cabinet.

“I’m so relieved you’re here,” you say energetically, still shuffling through your things as you hear him walk over and sit down. “Can I get you anything? I can fix us some tea, if you want. Or...” 

You trail off as you turn around, raising an eyebrow in Lucio’s direction. “This _is_ a social call, right? Nothing’s wrong?” 

"Everything’s fine! Really. I just thought you could, ah, use a break,” he says, his eyes darting away from yours. 

“Uh huh. That’s...reassuring,” you sigh, suspicious, as you fish the schedule out of your pocket.

“I mean, I did have to maybe...fudge things a little with your secretary out there,” he clarifies quickly, as you spot the description yourself - 

_Lucio (former count,_ _~~deceased?~~ _ _) - Routine maintenance._

“Maintenance, huh?” you say skeptically, looking up from the page. 

“For my arm, you know? It...was the first thing I could think of,” he pouts, his ears turning red. “I mean, it was in a box for three years. And I’m pretty sure we might have gotten it blown up once? Was that real?” Lucio knitted his brow, trying to remember. “But either way, it worked, right? The guy penciled me in. No harm, no foul.”

You look at Lucio’s arm, glowing faintly as usual, visible even under the fabric of his shirt. "That’s plausible enough, I guess. You can't exactly ask Aisha or Salim.” _Or Asra,_ you muse silently. Asra would have plenty of ideas of what Lucio could do with his arm. None of them would end well.

“But Lucio, honestly,” you laugh, shoving the paper back into your pocket, “you don’t need an _excuse_ to come see me.” 

“Try telling _him_ that,” Lucio sniffs haughtily, gesturing towards the door. The look on his face is vaguely embarrassed - probably to have been caught in a white lie - but his body language is as transparent as ever.

 _He really just wanted to see you_.

“I can see it now,” you tease him as you pull over a nearby stool and sit next to him. “It’d be quite the line item. ‘ _Lucio, former count, deceased, misses you_.’” 

“Hey, I--wait, _deceased?_ Really?! He wrote that?” Lucio’s mouth hangs open incredulously.

“It’s not fair, right? You die _one_ time and no one ever lets you hear the end of it,” you chuckle and pat his arm sympathetically. “I’ll talk to him. You won’t need to make excuses, or talk to strangers about your feelings. I promise.”

You smile at him reassuringly as he looks back at you, finally visibly relaxing.

“But about your arm...” you ponder aloud. 

Lucio clears his throat nervously before he speaks. “I’m, uh. Sorry, what?” 

"I’ll admit to some professional curiosity. After all, you’ve never really let me see it without those” - you pause and wiggle your fingers at him for dramatic effect - “ _claws_ of yours.”

Lucio lets out a snorting laugh at that, a soft blush creeping over his cheeks. “I think you’ve had a few chances now, haven’t you? Although I could understand if you were a bit distracted at the time, considering,” he says smugly, leaning towards you.

Lucio meets your eyes and holds your gaze, first for one beat, then another. You feel his other hand suddenly warm at your waist. He guides you to the edge of your seat, leans forward to meet you, and -

You place a finger at his lips and stop him, your voice soft and low. “You know...you made a good point about maintenance,” you say, fighting hard to keep your expression neutral. “Maybe I _should_ take a closer look.”

Lucio blinks at you, surprised. “Oh. I, uh...guess we can’t be too careful.” He catches on after a moment and grins broadly. 

"So I should probably take this shirt off, huh?" Lucio winks at you, and before you can say anything to stop him, the shirt is off and tossed aside, forgotten.

“You’re shameless, you know that?” You shake your head and laugh as Lucio beams at you, setting his metallic arm down on the workbench. 

“One of my finest qualities,” he says, subtly flexing his muscles at you. Your eyes travel over familiar scars on his torso as he sits looking pleased with himself.

“Yes, yes. Now, let me focus, okay?” You smile at him and lift his arm off the table to take a closer look.

The prosthesis thrums under your touch, feeling alive with magic of its own. You close your eyes and focus, letting the gentle pulsing of its energy guide your fingertips slowly from Lucio’s palm to his elbow.

You can sense him watching you as you work, the rhythm of his breathing changing ever so slightly - but he remains otherwise silent. When you open your eyes, you can see he’s focused on your hands, a slow flush deepening across his cheekbones. It’s only a moment until he notices you’ve stopped, and he turns his head back to you.

“You can feel all of that?” you ask, and he nods once, quickly. _Yes_. 

“Interesting,” you say, returning your attention to his arm. You turn it over again in your hands, admiring the fine, glowing swirls of light that cut across the smooth, cold metal.

It was one thing to be told that Aisha and Salim were masters of their craft - but it was another thing entirely to see it with your own eyes. With Lucio’s usual armored gauntlet gone, you could at last see the delicate work that brought the arm to life, and feel the undercurrent of power holding it together.

Setting Lucio's forearm down to rest on the table beside you, you let your eyelids settle and take another deep breath to refocus yourself.

With one hand at his elbow, you let your other wander palm-first up to his shoulder, letting the flow of magic guide you. You realize, quietly, as your hand brushes past the end of the prosthesis and onto warm scar tissue and skin, that if it weren't for the immutable chill of the metal, its energy would feel undoubtedly alive.

Your examination complete, you open your eyes again and look Lucio over appraisingly. Your hand drops slowly, gliding deftly over an old scar and down one pectoral as you let just the slightest surge of your magic pulse from your fingertips.

Lucio takes a deep breath as the magic flickers over his skin, his eyelids fluttering slightly as a contented sigh leaves his body.

You lean in and reach up with your hand, gently sweeping his hair away from his eyes. As your fingertips linger at one cheek, he closes his eyes and exhales through his nose, a more relaxed smile curving his lips and softening his features.

You tap your thumb against his chin when you speak again. “Good news,” you confirm, sliding your fingertips down to his throat. “Everything seems just fine to me.” You can feel his pulse as it picks up at your touch, and move your free hand to grasp Lucio's golden one, intertwining your fingers with his. 

His hand clasps yours immediately, a little too tightly, as if all he's been aching to do the whole time is hold your hand. The thought of it fires off a pang of sadness in your heart.

_Three years he was a ghost._

_Three whole_ **_years_ ** _with no physical form. Then a few rapid-fire weeks with you - no wonder you couldn’t stop teasing, kissing, touching, then -_

 _The Masquerade. You, and the former count of Vesuvia, bodies pressed together, needy and desperately hot, peeling away his jacket, hiking up your skirt, gloved fingers gripping your thighs, mouths nipping and biting and staying so_ **_impossibly_ ** _quiet_

You bite down on your own lip - maybe a bit harder than you intended - and it's enough to ground you back in the present. You almost died that night, after all.

 _Almost died_ **_again_ ** _,_ you chuckle inwardly. You and Lucio had that in common, too. At the end of the day, you understood him enough to know that something wasn’t quite right.

"Are you okay, Lucio?" you ask, concern settling into your voice.

"W-what? Where did that come from?” he stammers slightly as your hand falls back to his chest, his eyes alert and locked on your own. “Well, yes. But...not really. It’s just...” he trails off and takes a deep breath, eyebrows furrowing slightly.

He screws up his face into a frustrated expression. “I mean, we saved the damned _world_ only a few weeks ago,” he continues, waving his free hand, “and everyone has already moved on. Everyone has some big, important job again! Except...well, me.” His tone breaks softly by the end, a whirl of emotions clouding his eyes. 

"So many people are still mad at me. Can you believe that? And everyone knows _you_ have some big magical...thing you need to do," he whines somewhat, gesturing once before looking away, embarrassed. “It’s...stupid. I wanted to see you, but I didn’t want to bother you. I didn't want you to be mad at me too." 

You open your mouth to try and comfort him, but Lucio is on a roll.

“And I tried finding things to do!” he scoffs. “Do you have any idea how many people work here in the palace? And I swear I’ve asked them _all_ if there was something I could do to help. Nadia sent me to the groundskeeper, who sent me to the kitchen staff, who sent me to the chamberlain, who sent me to Portia - and Portia, well, she told me she needed someone to help pull weeds in the garden. And you know what?” Lucio pauses for dramatic effect. “I was so desperate that I _actually did it_. I weeded the _entire thing._ ” 

You have to swallow a laugh imagining Lucio rooting around in the palace garden for weeds - the visual was a LOT to handle - but now wasn’t the time.

“No one needs me here. I used to think that boredom was the worst thing, but I was wrong. The worst thing,” he set his mouth into a hard line and looked down, muttering, “is being useless.”

Another pang of sadness tore at your heart. In so many ways, your adventure together had proven that you and Lucio were really two sides of the same coin - and you were no stranger to the need to be, well, _needed._ It was the whole reason you were here, in the palace, slowly losing your mind, instead of off enjoying an apparently much-needed vacation.

“You’re not useless, Lucio,” you attempted to console him, patting him reassuringly on the knee.

“Are you sure about that? Even _you_ don’t need me--”

“Whoa, now, _that’s_ not true,” you cut him off gently as your hand cups his cheek, lifting his face to look up at you as you stand up. When you run your fingers through his hair, you can feel the tension in his body rise as he looks up at you eagerly.

A rush of emotions run through you when you meet his gaze, and you pull him in to hug him tightly. Lucio’s head rests against your chest as you hold him for a moment in silence, feeling him finally begin to relax in your arms. 

“It may not look it, but...I’m a little in over my head, here. This week has been a nightmare,” you admit. “Even so, I just can’t stop myself from wanting to _fix_ everything-”

“Well, that _does_ sound like you,” Lucio snorts, tilting his head up to look at you with a playful glint in his eyes. “You need to solve everyone’s problems, don’t you?”

“I mean, have you _met_ me?” you banter back as Lucio sits back and places his hands tentatively on your hips. The feel of his hands on your body sends a pleasant shiver up your spine. 

“In your defense, you’re _very_ good at it," he insists as you lean into his grasp. 

"It’s a gift and a curse,” you say, smiling as seductively as you can manage, curling your fingers into his hair. With that, you lean down and brush your lips against his, lightly and quickly.

“Well, I’m here to help,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded on his handsome face.

“And just in time,” you reply, kissing the corner of his mouth. “My hero.”

The second time you press your lips to his, Lucio is ready. His kiss welcomes you all too eagerly, and the sudden head-rush of being in each other's arms again sends a intense surge of warmth through your body. Lucio's arms snake around your waist and pull you suddenly towards him, catching you off-balance. A second later you find yourself straddling a muscular thigh as you fall into him, bracing one hand against his chest.

You try to stifle a giggle as you drape an arm over Lucio’s shoulder and slide your other hand around to his back, the intensity of your desire crackling between you like lightning. He grips your back, holding you close to him, until he slides one hand up to cradle the back of your neck. The other flits over the skin at your waist, just at the hem of your shirt, fingers dancing underneath to gently stroke your side. The sensation tears a soft gasp from you, and Lucio blushes even as he grins smugly at your response.

You grind your hips in place against him, half instinct and half retaliation, knowing he can feel the growing heat between your legs as you roll against him. When you pull away for air, reluctantly, his breathing is ragged and your heart is pounding. You rest your forehead against his as you cup his face in your hands, idly stroking at his bottom lip with one thumb. 

“Tell me what you want,” you practically purr at him.

Lucio chuckles weakly, low in his throat, before he responds. “Should I beg for it?”

"Aww. Lucio," you scold him gently, one hand moving to the back of his neck. "I thought we already talked about this. If there’s something you really want," you tease, "all you have to do is ask nicely." He nods at you excitedly, his lips still parted as you place your other hand on his chest.

"So," you speak after a moment, breathily.

"So..." he repeats.

You put on the most seductive smile you can muster, dragging a line across his chest with one fingernail. "So...ask me."

Lucio groans softly at your request and drops his hands to his lap, closing his eyes quickly and taking a deep breath before making his request.

“Touch me. Please,” he pleads with just a hint of desperation as he smiles at you. “However you want to, just...don’t stop touching me. _Please_.”

It takes every ounce of willpower you have to maintain your composure with Lucio in front of you, half-naked already, begging for your touch. But you lean in towards one ear, rolling your hips against him as you do, and you hear him suck in a sharp breath as you whisper to him:

"I was hoping you'd say that."

You kiss delicately at the top of his cheekbone, then turn to nip at his earlobe as you run your hands over Lucio's broad chest. One thumb flicks casually, experimentally, at a nipple as you run your tongue down the line of his jaw, your efforts quickly rewarded with a low, rumbling moan and a full-body shudder.

"I’ve been thinking about this all week, you know." You whisper against his neck as you press your lips to a pulse point. “About touching you just like this.”

The scent of him is intoxicating to you, a mild, clean sweetness and musk that feels uniquely _Lucio_. Breathing him in, you wind your fingers through his hair and pull his head back, exposing his throat. His pulse races as you kiss and bite at the sensitive skin beneath his jaw and down the length of his neck, leaving small, red marks in your wake.

"I’m here now," he says quickly, tilting his head back down so he can meet your eyes. "You know I'll do anything."

Lucio's hands suddenly settle onto your thighs, his touch hot against the thin fabric of your pants. 

Your body loves it, and you revel in his need, watching the way he craves you - but first -

"Lucio," you chide. "Hands." 

He drops them again immediately. You untangle your fingers from his hair, sliding them down his neck and over his shoulders, giving his upper arms a firm squeeze.

"Be good," you tease.

"If I _have_ to," he whined, the grin on his face betraying his obvious enjoyment. You keep looking into his eyes as you drop a hand down to lightly stroke at the front of his trousers, where it’s clear he’s starting to strain at the fabric with every move you make.

"Mm, well...for today, you do. I'd hate to have to stop right here and get back to work..."

“You’re bluffing.” Lucio smirks at you, but his mouth hangs open in disbelief when you unstraddle his leg and stand up with a skeptical look on your face.

“Am I? An interesting theory,” you arch an eyebrow at him, “I could walk back over to my desk right now - see?” You can’t resist the urge to tease him, so you turn, slowly and deliberately, away from him and do exactly that.

Emboldened by desire, you start to ease your pants over your hips as you walk, letting them fall to the ground once you reach your destination. You kick them away as you turn around to gauge Lucio's response.

In reality, the desk was only a few meters away from where you were seated, so even at your slowest it took maybe ten seconds to cross the room - but based on Lucio's expression, it may as well have been an hour. When you look at him, he's leaning forward in his seat, his hands clenched into fists, chest heaving and pupils blown wide in a look of absolute need.

 _Just a little longer,_ you think, savoring the moment while it lasts.

"See how easy that was?" you taunt him playfully, pushing your chair to the side so you can perch on the edge of your desk.

Lucio lets out a groan from deep in his chest, but a grin is teasing up the corners of his mouth, giving him away.

You give him a moment before you tilt your head and ask, "Are you _sure_ you don't want to be good?"

"I told you," he pants, "I'll do anything for you."

"Including..."

"Including being good! Just...please. I need you," he gasps, and suddenly every other thought in your head is gone, evaporated into a fog of raw desire.

"Then come here," you instruct him, your resolve crumbling.

Lucio seems to cross the room in an instant, standing in front of you, face hovering close, body positioned just between your legs as they hang off the edge of the desk. 

But he isn't touching you.

The last of the day’s sunlight is still filtering in from the windows, the golden hues of sunset mixing with the soft purple of early twilight. Lucio’s face, inches from yours and illuminated by that glow, simply took your breath away. You take his hands in yours and place them under the hem of your shirt, like how he teased you only minutes ago. 

"Lucio." You look him in the eye, sliding his hands partway up your ribcage. He follows your prompt intuitively, peeling your shirt the rest of the way off himself, gazing breathlessly down at you. Your hands grab his waistband and pull his hips towards yours as you whisper into his ear:

"I need you, too."

Lucio's mouth meets yours again, then, the dynamic between the two of you melting away in an instant. Your kisses are bolder now, more intense as his hands seem to roam over every inch of your body that he can reach. You do your best to return the favor while sighing against him, as one large, callused palm massages a breast, his other hand cool and smooth as it tickles the skin of your inner thigh. 

After a few minutes, Lucio breaks away from the embrace to slide his boots off, enabling him to remove the rest of his clothing in record time. Another day you might want to take your time with him, but for now, you can certainly appreciate his ruthless efficiency as he wordlessly lifts your hips from the desk to strip away your undergarments. 

With the last of his clothing - and yours - gone, you pause for a moment, taking in the sight of his naked form. His powerful musculature isn’t exactly a surprise, though it certainly doesn’t fail to impress in the moment. _But he has a few more scars than I thought,_ you observe, your protective instincts flaring up as you reach out and trace one with your fingertip.

His cock, already hard, twitches intuitively as you touch him, and when he steps towards you again, your eyes travel back up his body to meet his gaze. Lucio’s mouth hangs open as he continues to look you over, an almost reverent expression on his face. Finally, after a long moment, he looks into your eyes, wrapping his golden hand behind your head and pulling you into another deep, passionate kiss.

You wrap your arms around him, clawing lightly at his back with your nails as Lucio's other hand, warm and slightly rough, slides up your thigh. One finger, then two, rub against your slit, feeling for the wetness of your arousal and teasing it out as his hand continues to move. 

You're already starting to moan softly into his lips when Lucio applies a sudden light pressure with his fingertips, pulling an undignified whimper of pleasure out of you. You gnash at his lip once before breaking the kiss apart and glowering at him in mock-annoyance.

“Don’t rush me,” you chide him gently, biting at his jawline. “I want to enjoy you like this.”

He smiles wickedly at you, his eyes half-lidded as he kisses rapidly across your cheek to the shell of your ear. “Sorry, sorry,” Lucio growls quietly, nipping at your earlobe. “I’ll be good."

For a few minutes, all you can do is sigh happily as he breathes against your neck, biting at you absently as he continues moving his fingers in small circles between your legs. 

"Any requests?" he asks, pulsing with his fingers again as you exhale sharply into his shoulder, digging in your nails beneath his shoulder blades. Familiar waves of heat are starting to build in your body as he gently works you over with his hand, his eyes alert as he focuses entirely on your pleasure.

"Just...keep going," you urge, closing your eyes and shifting your body to a better angle as Lucio does exactly that. When you lean back onto your arms to steady yourself, Lucio uses his unoccupied hand to brace himself against the desk and lean over you, taking his time covering your collarbone with kisses.

Some time later, Lucio leans forward onto his elbow, placing a hand against your back as he begins to brush his lips across your chest. The sensation is exquisite, and you feel your body already on the verge of an orgasm by the time his teeth scrape over one of your nipples. Finally, as he presses against you just a little harder - just a little faster - you're pushed over the edge, crying out as your abdomen quivers and legs squeeze together around him.

Lucio, clearly pleased with himself, gives you a moment to collect yourself before he pops his fingertips cheekily into his mouth and guides you to sit up. Still light-headed, you kiss him fiercely, tasting a hint of yourself on his tongue as you wind your own fingers through his hair. 

"All those times that you promised to spoil me," you purr at him, out of breath. "You really weren't kidding, were you?" 

Lucio can't help but preen a little, clearly enjoying the praise. "There’s more where that came from, you know. Shame it’s over so soon," he grins, raising an eyebrow at you.

You smile beatifically at him as you slide your hands down his body again. "Well, that’s a relief," you croon appreciatively. "But you’re forgetting something."

Lucio looks slightly confused for a moment as you reach down, sweeping the back of your hand lightly against his still-hard cock.

"You came here practically _begging_ me to touch you,” you say matter-of-factly, a dominant edge creeping back into your tone. “So I don’t think we’re done. Do you?”

“Ahh...” Lucio exhales slowly, catching your meaning. “I...yes. You make a great point.”

You scoot back slightly and push at his hips, turning him around to lean against the edge of the desk. With a leg on either side of him and your breasts pressed flush against his back, you rest your chin forward onto his shoulder and turn to press your lips against his cheek. You wind your arms around him and scratch your nails delicately down his chest, feeling his breath quicken as he melts into your embrace.

“I’m all yours,” he whispers into the air.

Lucio leans back onto his arms to support himself as you kiss and bite gently at his neck, one of your hands drifting down to rest at his groin. Slowly, you brush your fingers up the length of his shaft, stroking experimentally as you grasp him in your hand. A small shiver courses through his body, validating your efforts as his muscles tense and release in turn.

“You are,” you murmur in his ear, shifting your other hand up to rest against his throat. “And today, I think you deserve to get a little more of what you want, don’t you?” 

Lucio groans wordlessly and lets his head fall back, a look of contented pleasure on his face. As you graze your lips along his jawline, your hand falls into a relaxed rhythm, moving up and down the length of him as his breathing becomes more and more ragged. After a few minutes you feel his body shift slightly, one of his hands coming forward to squeeze your thigh. 

“That good, huh?” you say, smirking and picking up the pace a little before Lucio nods his head, turning his face towards yours.

“Yeah,” he affirms, exhaling quickly, his face red and his brow lined with sweat. “Please--” he continues, but you interrupt, crushing your lips against his. Your hunger for one another is palpable as you passionately kiss, but after a moment Lucio breaks away, panting roughly. You reposition your hand that still rests at the base of his throat, caressing at his neck with your thumb as you gauge his reactions.

Lucio’s body language guides you as you adjust the rhythm of your strokes, feeling out how he responds to every change in motion. After some time, you feel his hips start to jerk slightly, his grip on your thigh tightening in turn. 

“Go on,” you urge, nipping down the line of his neck to his shoulder. No further encouragement is required - Lucio lets out a low moan from deep in his chest, his body tensing and shaking against yours as he comes, gasping your name. 

After, you feel his body slump back against you as he loosens his grasp on your leg. You press your lips to his shoulder, nuzzling him affectionately as his breathing gradually begins to return to normal. When your arms drift to his chest, Lucio turns his shoulders towards you, wrapping an arm around you to pull you in for a soft kiss. You stay like that for a long moment, content and quiet together as you re-ground yourselves in the present.

“I meant it, you know. When we said it, back then. I do love you. And,” you say softly, kissing the tip of his nose, “you’re not useless. We’ll figure something out. And hey, worst case scenario, there’s always gardening,” you joke at him before moving to stand the two of you up.

“Ugh, _please,_ no. My nose felt itchy for days,” Lucio pouts and wiggles his body a bit, resisting the notion that your embrace has to end. “But...thank you. I love you, too,” he brushes his lips against your forehead and sighs, standing up and stretching his back lazily.

It’s gotten much darker in your office, no matter how well your eyes have adjusted, so you summon a flame into the fireplace with a quick flick of your wrist. When the light flares up, Lucio jumps in surprise, looking over at you. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get...oh. Uhh, I...” he trails off as he looks down at himself, and then at the state of your desk, firelight barely disguising the redness of his cheeks.

You can’t help but giggle at the look on his face. “Don’t worry. I’ve got magic for that. But...next time, let’s try an actual _bed_ , okay?”

“A bed, huh? I happen to know where we can find one of those. I’ll show you later, if you want,” Lucio gives you another comically outsize wink, his usual bravado returning. You roll your eyes at him, but soon the two of you are laughing together as you begin getting the room - and yourselves - back in order. 

You’ll figure it out.


End file.
